i used to be
afraid of death
isn't that funny
because now
i like killing myself
i like the feeling of
being torn apart by
other people's opinions
i beg them to tell the truth
even when i know
it's not what i want to hear
tell me
tell me you liked my hair longer
before i cut it short
tell me
tell me i'm too skinny
that i should put on some weight
tell me
tell me you're shocked
tell me i should know these basic things
i want the truth
not a sugar coating
and i don't exactly want it to hurt
but i'm starting to think
it is better than nothing

Stretched out like starfish in oceans of meadows
with fractal goggles for eyes
we followed the footsteps of the breeze in the grass
below bismuth bugs in nacre skies

our minds began bobbing between
the confetti of chattering crowds
sheltered by the shade of the breathing pea green trees
and cyan sky spilling marshmallow clouds

slips of thought escape our lips
but trapped are we in a body
as mouth, nose, ears, eyes and fingertips
make their best guess at reality

perhaps there are more truths than sides in a circle
an infinite edge
for what is true if i can only sense?
is the tangerine sun really red
or simply a translation of a wavelength?
does hot and cold exist?
is a dish really sweet or sour?
soft because our fingers can’t feel the bumps?
or odourless because we’re ill and dour?

We fall into ourselves but stop and smile
because life is a surreal serendipitous surprise
so we bathe in the floating music
behind closed kaleidoscopic eyes

And i realised that our lives are asymptotic ribbons
slips in time and space
interlacing with others wisps of fabric
to form a silk cable trailing off into the dark afterglow of present and past
humanity is this cable
for we are our ancestors as much as our progeny are us
and the deceased are never dead
for they are the roots of our rope
the craftsmen of our circumstance
our past is our present
and the future is now
time, but a pinpoint on an infinite coil,
is not gone or coming

it just is.